FATIMAH’S CHALLENGES: EPISODE NINETEEN

 Fatimah (happily entering her room, checking out different

beautiful wears, khimar, and socks bought by Hajia Habibah):

Wow, I love this gown! It's so beautiful. (She puts it on and

checks herself in the mirror.) Wow, I look so beautiful. Thank you,

Allah. I am deeply grateful.

Hajia Habibah (knocking at Fatimah's door): As-Salamu alaykum

wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh.

Fatimah: Come in, ma.

Hajia Habibah (opening the door): Uhhmmm, I was expecting you

to respond to my taslim.

Fatimah: What is taslim?

Hajia Habibah: Subhanallah! Yaa Allah… (takes a deep breath)

Okay, taslim is a blessed greeting. I said earlier, "As-Salamu

alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh." It means peace be unto

you. You are supposed to respond with "Wa alaykum as-Salam wa

rahmatullahi wa barakatuh," which means peace be unto you too.

Fatimah: Oh… Wa alaykum Salam waaa…ra… Kai, I don't think I

can pronounce it properly, ma.

Hajia Habibah: Okay, this is an assignment. Learn it. Learn how

to say it; I will get some Arabic for you, okay?

Fatimah: Okay, ma.

Hajia Habibah (noticing her dress): Masha Allah! You look

beautiful. Do you like it?

Fatimah: Yes, ma. Thank you so much. Have you eaten?

Hajia Habibah: Yes, and I love it. You are indeed a great cook;

your family trained you well.

Fatimah (her mood changes immediately): …

Hajia Habibah: Sorry to remind you about your past. Allah knows

what you’ve been through. After any hardship comes ease.

Fatimah (wiping her tears): Thank you so much for everything,

ma. I am very grateful. At least my nightmares will be over.

Hajia Habibah: All praises belong to Allah. Come here. (She

embraces Fatimah.) Everything will be fine, okay?

Fatimah: Ok, ma. (smiles)

Alh. Ismail (shouting): As-Salamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi,

honey! I’m home. Where are you?

Hajia Habibah (whispering to Fatimah): My husband is back. Wa

alaykum as-Salam, baby. (Turns to Fatimah) I’ll be right back;

he needs my attention.

Fatimah (nodding): …

Hajia Habibah (exiting from her room): Welcome, my love. (She

embraces him) You look tired; there must be lots of work at the

office.

Alh. Ismail: Yeah, but you look good. I guess your patients didn’t

trouble you much.

Hajia Habibah: Well, if that’s what you think. Anyway, let’s go in

so you can take your shower. A special food is waiting for you.

Alh. Ismail: Really? Ok, let’s go.

(20 minutes later, at the dining room)

Alh. Ismail: Masha Allah! This soup is superb. Did you cook this?

Hajia Habibah: Unfortunately, no. But I am happy to tell you

that Fatimah prepared it.

Alh. Ismail: She did? Masha Allah.

Hajia Habibah: Yes, and I’m glad you like it.

Alh. Ismail: She was indeed trained well.

Hajia Habibah: Yes, but unfortunately in a cruel way. (sad face)

Alh. Ismail: Call her for me.

Hajia Habibah: Ok, Fatimah!!! (shouts)

Fatimah: Yes, ma! I’m coming. (runs out of her room) I’m here,

ma.

Fatimah (going on her knees): Evening, sir.

Alh. Ismail (surprised): Good evening. Please stand up; you don’t

have to go on your knees when greeting us. Hmm, we aren’t Allah.

Anyway, my wife told me you prepared this meal.

Fatimah: Yes, sir.

Alh. Ismail: Masha Allah! You are indeed a great chef. I think we

should open a restaurant. (They all laugh)

Fatimah: Thank you, sir, but I’m still learning though. In fact,

I’m willing to learn more from Hajia.

Hajia Habibah: You’re kidding, right? Deep inside, you know I

should be the one learning more from you. Have you eaten?

Fatimah: Yes, ma.

Alh. Ismail: Ok, I promise you something big.

Fatimah (surprised): Wow, sir!

Hajia Habibah: We can’t wait to see it.

Fatimah: This is too much for me to take, sir, please. Earlier,

Hajia bought uncountable clothes for me.

Hajia Habibah: It’s nothing, dear. Anyway, you can go now.

Fatimah: Good night, sir and ma. (She heads to her room)

Alh. Ismail: Good night, dear. (He continues eating)

Hajia Habibah: Hmmmm… you’re really enjoying this meal.

Alh. Ismail: You’re right, but not as much as I still love your

cooking. Your cooking is extraordinary; you prepare my meal

with love and care, and that’s what makes your food special.

Hajia Habibah: Awwwnn… thanks, honey. That’s why I love you.

Ehhh! That reminds me… uhhhm! Baby, when are my sons coming

home to spend some time with us? I miss them so much.

Alh. Ismail: Mmmm! Habibah! I’ve told you several times; they

will be back soon. By next year, Lukman will graduate, while

Abdulmalik has 2 more years.

Hajia Habibah: I know, but I miss them so much. I feel like a

barren woman without them…

Alh. Ismail: Subhanallah! Of course not! You are not a barren

woman. You gave me two blessed sons, and I am grateful to

Almighty Allah for that. I am so satisfied. But if you’re not

okay with it, we can have another baby. Besides, you’re yet to

enter menopause, and I am still a man.

Hajia Habibah (surprised): You must be joking… having another

baby at this age? Don’t you see the interval? Abdulmalik is 22

years old. Imagine me having another baby now.

Alh. Ismail: Are you not the one demanding a child? Besides, you

said you feel like a barren woman. I just want to make you feelike a real woman again. All I’m trying to say is that I’m always

available when you need me.

Hajia Habibah: You must be joking. I’m off to my room. (She

stands up and leaves)

Alh. Ismail: Baby! Are you upset with me now? (She quickly eats

the last meat and runs after her) Wait for me now.

(Curtain)

THE NEXT MORNING

Blessing (entering the kitchen and seeing her mom cooking):

Good morning, Mom. Aren’t you done cooking? I’m hungry oh,

please do fast.

Grace: What did you say?

Blessing: You heard me! Now, please do fast.

Grace: You must be very stupid for what you’ve just said. Are

you out of your mind? How dare you talk to me like that?

Blessing: Oh, so what I said hurt you? Do you know how you are

feeling right now? That’s exactly how Fatimah used to feel when

you talked to her rudely.

Grace (speechless)

Blessing: I’m still serious. Oh, please do fast. If you will have to

chook your hand inside fire to make the food ready, please do so.

(She leaves the kitchen, leaving her mother speechless)

Abdulrahman (entering, sniffing the aroma from his room):

Please, Mom, is the food ready?

Grace: You’re okay?

Abdulrahman: It must be ready. You don’t have to serve me; I’ll

do it myself. I am hungry! (He picks a flat plate) Please excuse

me while I… you know what I mean. (He puts as much rice as he

likes on the plate, then takes a spoonful) Hmmm! It’s not even as

delicious as Fatimah’s own, but I’ll manage it sha.

Grace (to herself): Can you imagine these children?